A Soldier Returns from War
by SherlockEmrysWinchester
Summary: Pretty much the title, John comes back from Afghanistan. It is slightly Au because they were in a relationship before John was deployed. Oh, and Johnlock.


Summary: pretty much the title

Sherlock began examining the body and as usual John's voice filled his head, commenting on small things such as bruising and did he eat breakfast that morning. Sherlock sighed quietly, it seemed like forever ago that he had last seen his John. Sometimes he cursed his mind because he remembered everything about the day John was enlisted. Sherlock was practicing his violin while John looked through the mail. He heard a sharp intake of breathing looked at John who was staring blankly at the paper in his hands.

'John?' Sherlock asked.

'John.' Sherlock had set the Stradivarius down now and was looking worriedly at his boyfriend.

'I-I've been enlisted Sherl' John said at last.

Sherlock froze.

'I'm being sent over seas in a week.'

Sherlock couldn't breathe; he couldn't move; he couldn't think. John-his John- was leaving. Leaving him.

'Where?' He finally managed to ask.

'Afghanistan.' His now-soldier answered.

The detective felt his throat constrict.

'Afghanistan,' he repeated back to John, dumbly.

'Yeah'

'How...how long?' He asked, dreading the answer.

John looked down, his eyes briefly scanning the page before delivering the mortal blow to Sherlock.

'This says three years minimum but it will likely be extended to five' John's voice broke and Sherlock's world shattered.

His John would be at war for five years. Five years. Away from him and in danger.

'No,' he whispered, willing it not to be true.

John took Sherlock's hands, 'Sherlock, my love,' he began, 'we knew this could happen when I applied. They need me over there, people are dying. And I won't be on the front lines, okay? I really won't be in all that much danger. I'm a doctor, remember? I save people, not kill them. It will be over before you know it and then we'll have the rest of our lives to be together.' A tear ran down his doctor's cheek.

Sherlock nodded as too many emotions he didn't understand crashed over him like a wave. He couldn't speak, so instead he pressed his lips to John's.

The memory disappeared as Donovan's voice pierced through the memory like a droning siren.

'Well?' She crossed her arms and stared expectantly at the consulting detective.

'If you had any sense at all Donovan the you'd know that-'

'Sherlock?' Lestrade was in the doorway looking mildly confused which honestly wasn't surprising to Sherlock.

'What, Graham?' Sherlock asked in a clipped tone.

'There's someone here to see you'

'It's Mycroft, he can wait'

'No, he's dressed in army fatigues and has a-'

The taller man's head shot up at the mention of army fatigues and grabbed Lestrade's shoulders,

'What? What did you just say?!' He sounded somewhat frantic even to his own ears.

'I said there's a man dressed like he's in the army, with a cane downstairs waiting for you' Lestrade sounded unsure of what to do with Sherlock so close to him.

Sherlock got a far away look and whispered, 'John'

'Uh he didn't say his name but-'

Sherlock didn't hear the rest as he flew past Lestrade and bolted down the stairs. His mind was racing. How can he be here? He isn't meant to be back for 534 days. How can he be here? Lestrade mentioned a cane- what if he was hurt? Not my John! But, if he has a cane then something must be wrong. All thoughts immediately left the detective when he saw a sandy-haired man leaving on a cane with a beautiful smile, joy radiating from his face.

_John_, his mind whispered.

Their first kiss flashed before him:

They were running after a murderer. Although they had lost him, their adrenaline was still high and they leaned against a wall, out of breath but laughing despite the seriousness of the situation. John met Sherlock's eyes and Sherlock's eyes met John's lips. He felt a pull- a pull he had felt so many times before and had ignored- and he moved towards his blogger. As John tilted his head up, Sherlock leaned down. Their lips met and Sherlock finally understood why people searched their whole lives for love. Because it was the most explosive and exhilarating and thrilling and beautiful feeling he'd ever experienced. The kiss deepened and Sherlock's never waned it to end.

And now John was in front of him.

Real.

He felt the emotions coming back.

He was suddenly unsure of what to do.

So he ran.

He ran.

Straight to John.

'Sherlock' John breathed into his shoulder as Sherlock engulfed him in a hug, his thin arms wrapping around shorter man, being wary of his shoulder which was in a sling. Sherlock's happiness at seeing John overcame the worry he felt and he made a mental note to interrogate the doctor later.

'John, you're here'

John chuckled, 'I am, well last I checked I was'

Sherlock felts tears run down his face.

John was home.

His John was back.

And all was suddenly right with the world.

'God, I missed you Sherl' John said in a low voice, a voice reserved only for him.

Sherlock kissed him and murmured 'I missed you, John.' Revealing emotions that emerged solely for his doctor.

Donovan cleared her throat loudly behind them. Sherlock whirled around to say something no doubt insulting judging from the state of her knees, but before he could get a word out, John was stepping in front of him extending a hand,

'Captain John Watson formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers.' His forwardness shocked Sally into silence for a (blissful) moment. John continued, 'and I don't appreciate you talking to my boyfriend like that. He is more brilliant than you'll ever be and jealously is an ugly color on you. So I suggest you shut up before I make you' he was stood very close to her now.

Donovan stuttered, 'uh I um sorry' she left quickly, shame coloring her face.

'Let's go home John,' Sherlock took John's hand in his.

As they turned to leave Lestrade called out 'Oi! Sherlock you cant leave yet! The case, remember?!'

'It was the brother,' Sherlock called over his shoulder.

John giggled, causing Sherlock to lean down and say 'we can't giggle, it's a crime scene!'

John threw his head back and laughed.

And it was honestly the most beautiful thing Sherlock had ever seen


End file.
